


Comfort

by orphan_account



Series: Control [3]
Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Animal Play, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bondage, Bottom tord, Collars, Comfort, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Master/Pet, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Physical Abuse, Scavenger Hunts, and Tord's the prize, general nastiness, good ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-12 19:52:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16002128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Third work in the control seriesI can't help itThis is the good endthis is possibly triggering so read with caution please





	1. Chapter 1

A soft tugging on his hood awoke Tom. He looked down to see Tord curled up against his chest, hands tucked up, and looking up at him with those round, trusting silver eyes.   
"Alpha.." He whined, rubbing up against Tom's chin.   
"What is it, hmm?" He asked, and Tord sat up, mostly on his chest.   
"I'm hungry." He complained, and Tom nodded.

It had been three months since Tord had decided he wanted to stay, and Tom had been making progress in his training. The little omega was now completely desperate for affection, pained enough to seek it from the one that took it from him.

"Let's get you some food." He decided, picking the little omega up and holding him against his chest.  
He set Tord down on the countertop when they were in the kitchen, keeping a close eye on the omega as he made some toast. There was some bacon in the fridge, but Tord didn't know that yet. It was a special treat, only for when Tord truly deserved it. He'd not had bacon for about a year almost, and Tom could almost imagine the soft, happy smile on his face.

While toast was being made, Tord fiddled with the tag on his collar. It stated his name, and gave a phone number to call if anyone found him. Tom kept a close eye on him, mostly because he was due to go into heat soon, and also because of the little stunt he had pulled a while ago.

He didn't want to go too much into detail, as it had been highly distressing for his omega. Another time, Tord had tried to escape through the bathroom window. He had been severely punished, along with a week in the basement. Tord wasn't the most obedient pet, but he didn't try and escape.

That was apparently going to change.

Tom tucked Tord into bed when he began to yawn. The cage had long since been packed away and forgotten about, due to very good behaviour on Tord's behalf. He had also been given free usage of his hands, which he had tested.

Tom was watching television when he thought he heard the back door open. He sighed and got up to check, and it was indeed wide open.  
"Shit." He growled, slamming it shut and running up to his room.  
"Tord?" He called, to no avail.

Strings of curses fell out of his mouth as he grabbed the keys to his motorbike and flew out of the door. Tord couldn't have gone far. He'd find him in no time, or at least, he thought he would.

 

Tord ran full pelt into the forest, the twigs tearing at his face and hands, but he wasn't going to stop. This was what he had been working up to, and he wasn't going to let some trees stand in the way of getting back to Paul and Patryck.

He panicked and threw himself face down when he heard the familiar purr of Tom's bike.  
"Tord?" He called out, and once he was satisfied he wasn't there, he kept going. He had made the mistake of keeping hold of Tord's red army uniform, as he had been wearing it the second time he was captured. 

Tord pulled the fur hood up to fight back the biting cold, fumbling in his pockets for a pair of gloves. He hastily pulled them on, and just as he did, it began to snow. Hiding under a Holly bush, he decided he'd better sit this one out.

Soon enough, his crotch began to wake up as he was finally shoved face first into his heat. He ignored it, but was glad for the tingling heat it brought to his body. He didn't allow himself to touch himself. It was indecent and frankly inconvenient. He didn't want to be caught by Tom with his hand down his pants.

As the snow began to die down, he set out again. He had a vague idea of where he was going, so he walked along the side of the road to keep himself on the right path. At the sound of the bike coming closer, he crouched, pressing his hands over his mouth to stop the steam. He wasn't quick enough apparently, because Tom stopped the bike.  
"Tord? Are you there?" He called out, "If you come out and come with me now, I won't punish you."

Tord wanted nothing more than to throw himself at Tom, to beg for forgiveness and to go back to his house. If he ended up in the basement at least he'd be warm. He braced himself as Tom unmounted the bike, and bolted as he came closer. He heard not one, but two sets of footsteps in the woods around him, but he wasn't going to slow to see who the other two were.  
"Red Leader! I demand you stop right this instant!" Edd's voice rang out, but that just spurred him on.

He was swift, navigating the forest with ease. His smaller size was an advantage, as it came with heightened agility.

A gunshot ran out, he flinched, and then Tom barked something about not shooting him. That was when Tord tripped, landing heavily on his elbow. He held his breath as Tom and Edd slowed, and the beam of a flashlight cut through the murky darkness of the forest. It passed over his foot and he was ready to be taken back, but it kept going.

"Hold on." Tom ordered. "You smell that?"

Edd made a noise of agreement, and aimed the flashlight directly at Tord, who looked up like a deer in headlights. His steel cold gaze reflected the beams of light, giving him an eerie, beastial appearance.

"Tord, it's alright." Tom coaxed, and the omega began to get shakily to his feet. He feigned a limp, grabbing hold of Tom for support.

"It's alright, it's ok. Let's get you ho-" Tom was cut off by an undignified yelp as Tord sunk his sharp teeth into his arm. He clamped down until he felt teeth scrape bone, and only then did he relinquish his grip and bolt.

Tom yelled something, and Edd fired after him, but he was far gone.   
"Let's cut around." Edd suggested, and Tom nodded. He hadn't actually expected Edd to come out that quickly, but bad writing or something had obviously come into play.

Tord stopped for a moment at the edge of the forest to catch his breath. He'd need to cross the road, which wasn't a problem, as there was no one coming. As soon as his foot connected with the tarmac, a sharp pain exploded through the left side of his body and he was left staggering backwards in shock. He coughed, wobbling a little before collapsing. His fingers closed around the tranquilliser dart and yanked it out, throwing it to the side, but it was too late. 

His eyes fluttered shut for just a second as the soft purr of the bike was cut off. Heavy footsteps made their way over to him, and his head was tilted up.  
"You're so fucked." Edd purred, letting go of his head and standing up.

Tord barely saw, but he started talking into what he assumed to be his phone. He could vaguely make out Edd's feet in front of him as he struggled to stand. His arms gave out, and he fell face first into the dirt again.


	2. Game on

Tord awoke to the scent of his alpha surrounding him. Two abyssal eyes started down at him, narrowing when they saw he was awake. He was still lying on the side of the road, the cold making him go numb.

"I thought we were past this." He growled. Tord was panting like a marathon runner, face flushed as his heat finally caught up with him. He scrambled backwards, backing up against a tree.  
"It's alright, Tord. I won't hurt you if you come back now." He coaxed, hand out, and Tord shakily reached for it.

"I don't wanna go back in the basement." He whimpered as Tom pulled him into his embrace, gently pushing his nose against Tord's neck.  
"You won't. I promise." Tom lied, but through the fuzz of heat, Tord didn't catch it.

"We're going home." He purred, picking him up. Tord keened at the smell of his alpha, nuzzling into him, his heat no doubt making his head fuzzy. He was placed on the seat of the bike, and Tom got on behind him. He was enclosed in his arms, purring.  
"Thanks for your help, Edd." Tom called, and then started the bike.

The odd tingling sensation in Tord's arm had faded, leaving behind a lingering dread and a harsh burn in his crotch. He wanted Tom. He wanted him so badly it hurt, and he knew he'd just be thrown into the basement again.

Tom stopped the bike, catching Tord by the hood as he made a final break for freedom. He was mildly impressed by the little omega's determination, but at the same time, he wanted to punish him for disobeying. Tord began crying as he dragged him closer to the door, no doubt knowing what was going to happen.

He was taken, to the basement this time, instead of Tom's room. He was set down on a spare mattress, and pinned down. Tom stripped him, leaving him in his hoodie and socks.  
"Now, what happens to naughty kitties, hmm?" Tom asked, pulling a length of rope out of the cabinet. Tord didn't answer.

His hands were tucked into his chest like Tom had taught him to, but the little fucker still had the audacity to look just a little smug, heat radiating from his crotch. Tom tied one his hands to the ring attached to the wall to make sure he'd stay, and then stood. He took something out from a cardboard box. It was another length, which Tom used to tie Tord's ankles to his thighs, after forcing him up onto his hands and knees.

Tord gave a soft whimper, straining against the restraints. Tom disappeared upstairs for a moment, returning with the tail and paws. He secured the tail to the bottom of Tord's hoodie, where he had already cut out a hole for it to go. The paws went on next, and then Tom was pressing a small vibrator inside his cunt, thankfully off. Finally, Tom fastened the collar around Tord's neck, and then to the ring. He untied Tord's hand, and then set down a bowl of water within Tord's reach. The leash was long enough for Tord to reach the basement bathroom, and the bottom of the stairs. 

"You can stay down here until you learn your lesson." Tom snarled, slamming the door. Tord buried his face in his hands. He could be out in the snow, making his way back to Paul and Patryck, but here he was, stuck in this asshole's basement. Hopefully, by some miracle, they'd find him and take him home. He just wanted to leave.

On the fifth day, Tom finally opened the door to find Tord sitting expectantly at the foot of the stairs, his hips gyrating ever so slightly as he no doubt pressed his heel into his crotch.  
"Alpha, please. I want to go home." He whined, silver eyes red and puffy from crying, and face flushed from frustration.

"You are." Tom chided, making his way downstairs.   
"This isn't home." Tord snarled, backing away as Tom reached the bottom of the stairs. "Home is with Paul and Patryck."

"They don't care about you. They're not looking." Tom growled, and Tord seized up. "The only person that cares about you is me."

That had another rush of tears coming to Tord's eyes, and he furiously rubbed them away.   
"That's not true. You're lying." He whimpered, and Tom smirked.  
"How about this." He began. "I'll get a message to them, and if they find you in a month, you go home with them."   
"And if they don't?" Tord asked, perking up at the prospect.  
"You stay with me." Tom finished, "Before we agree, there's one condition."

"Hmm?" 

"I get to punish you properly."

 

 

Patryck was doing some general paperwork when William came in with a letter.  
"It's for you and Paul." The omega informed him, setting it down on the desk and going to leave.  
"Wait." Patryck ordered, the alpha setting down his pen. William paused, looking over his shoulder.  
"Who's the sender?" He asked, and he shrugged.  
"It was shoved in the window of Tord's office. I was looking for some forms and it fell on me." He explained, and Patryck nodded.  
"Get Paul for me, would you?" He asked, and William nodded, giving the temporary leader a sympathetic glance. 

Patryck missed Tord terribly. It nagged at him constantly, how he could have done something to prevent it and he didn't, but he still had hope. When Paul opened the door to his office and sat opposite him, he smiled. Paul took hold of the letter, gently tearing it open, and the shocked inhale told Patryck all he needed to know. Inside the envelope was a Polaroid picture and a note. Said photo was of Tord, tied to a chair. His hair was unkempt, his eyes wild and haunted, and his neck and shoulders covered in scratches and bites. 

He was completely naked, and blindfolded. His hands rested in his lap in an attempt to cover himself, sheathed in some kind of white gloves, and legs tied to the chair. His face was red, and he looked like he was crying. Rope burns adorned his ankles and calves, along with his arms. Worst of all were the bruises all over his body, and the obvious fresh cut that read "Tom". That bastard. With hands shaking out of anger, Patryck took the note from the table, straightening it out.  
"Dear Paul and Patryck", it read, "I am certain you are wanting an update on your precious leader, so here we are. You have a month to find him. Succeed, and he's yours. Fail, and I keep him. Forever. There are a series of clues hidden throughout this town, eventually leading to him. I wish you the best of luck.  
Yours truly, 

Blue Leader."

Patryck looked from the note to the picture, and then at Paul. He turned over the picture to reveal the first clue.  
"White roses and grey stones"  
"Game on." Patryck growled, throwing the picture down.


	3. Chapter 3

Patryck pulled on his coat, and Paul followed suit. This one was easy. Tom had an old friend called Matt, who had been shot by Patryck and died of complications. His grave was in the town's cemetery, so that was where they went. 

Their hands brushed together as they walked up the path, breath billowing in clouds in front of their faces. The grave wasn't all to hard to find, as there weren't too many. On the grave was a single red rose, and an envelope. Paul bent down to pick it up, and they sat at a bench to read it. 

Paul opened it, and this time immediately passed it to Patryck. Inside was another photograph or Tord, and this one had him looking even worse for wear. He was chained to the wall, not unlike how they had first found him, but there was a metal bar keeping his legs spread apart. The slip of paper inside read "IZPFH4". Paul looked at it quizzically, and after neither of them could figure it out, they walked back. 

It took a few days for it to click, days Patryck knew they didn't have spare.

They were in action in minutes, stepping into Tord's room and searching for the dvd. Paul eventually found it, and when they opened it, another picture fell out. Once again, it was Tord. He was in the same position as before, but tiny needles adorned the skin on his wrists, and there were fresh bruises on his chest and stomach. He was looking up at the camera with a mixture of pure terror and slight defiance, eyes glassy with tears. Written on the back was another clue, this one a lot easier than the last.  
"Sunflowers".

To anyone else, it might seem as cryptic as anything, but Paul knew what it meant. When Tord had come back the first time, he had spent lots of time outside, and one of his favourite places to visit, under Paul's careful supervision, was a patch in the woods where sunflowers grew. Being the middle of winter, there were no sunflowers, but there was a bench.

It took about half an hour of aimlessly wandering the forest to find it, but on the bench was a red envelope. Patryck opened it this time, cringing at the photo. They didn't have much time left, and Tom seemed very happy to remind them. Tord once again stared up at the camera, silver eyes filled only with fear. His nose was bloody and broken, and Tom had a gun pressed inside his mouth, safety off and finger around the trigger. Tord's shoulders, and what Patryck could see of his body, were scratched, bloody and bruised. They needed to hurry up. The clue on the back read "E4".   
"Oh, what the fuck does that mean?" Patryck growled, and Paul shrugged. Inside the envelope was a timer, counting down two days, and a newspaper clipping.

 

Tord whimpered, looking up at the calendar Tom oh so helpfully put up to remind him how many days Paul and Patryck had to find him. Tom must be doing something to mess with them, as he has been taking several photos of him. Tord didn't like it. Every little motion hurt, and the rope burns on his ankles and wrists were excruciating.

He wanted Tom to help him. His heat was dragging on forever because he couldn't physically touch himself, what with his arms restrained, and Tom refused to do so much as to touch him for too long.

 

It was late one afternoon, and Tom came down the stairs with a sullen expression on his face.   
"They've reached the last clue, but they've only got two days left." He told Tord, who's face brightened. He untied Tord's hands, retying them behind his back, and then roughly forced the trousers on him. Tord whimpered at the skin on skin contact, trying to brush up against his alpha.  
"If they find you, you will no longer be my omega." He snarled, and Tord laughed.  
"You really think I want to be?"

 

 

The motorcycle ride was uncomfortable and awkward. Tord had to clutch Tom to stay on, and when they stopped, he stiffened. They were in the carpark of asdf land, long since deserted. There was dried blood on the floor.

Tord remembered trying to hold off zombies here, with Paul and Patryck. That memory brought a soft smile to his face. Tom stopped the bike, and Tord stepped off. He knew better than to run. 

He was led to a pole, declaring the parking area "E4". Tom produced a blanket from his bag, and wrapped it around Tord. It was so cold, so he was thankful for the thickness. He pulled up his hood, and let Tom chain him to the pole by the collar. The key was slipped inside Tord's pocket, and then Tom straightened up.

"If you're still here when I come back in two days, you're staying with me." Tom growled, and he nodded. 

 

Patryck growled at himself, looking over the contents of the envelope again. He finally twigged when he looked at the newspaper clipping again.

He stood up from his desk, and went to find Paul. A glance at the timer told him they had three hours.

 

With the pedal to the metal the whole way, they pulled up with half an hour left. Running across the snow, they found Tord very quickly. He sat with his legs crossed, face as pale as the snow around him. His eyes were wide with panic, watering when they landed on Paul and Patryck. He yanked at the chain, crying out at them.

Paul hugged him tightly while Patryck fished the key out of his pocket and unchained the shivering omega. Patryck scooped him up, and they walked to the car. Tord's skin was like ice, and as he huddled against Patryck, he began to cry. When they got in the car, Patryck sat in the back with Tord, and Paul drove home.

They didn't go back to the base. Patryck had left Yanov in charge and gone. At this moment, Tord was the top priority. He opened the door to his and Paul's house, carrying Tord to their bedroom. At the slightest skin to skin contact, the omega whimpered.   
"How do you feel?" Patryck asked, and Tord looked at him blearily.  
"gay." He groaned, flattening out on the bed.

By this time, Paul had returned with a hot water bottle, the best they could do for the time being, because getting Tord wet wasn't a good idea. Paul donated one of his hoodies to Tord, and when he had changed clothes, he looked a little better. 

He whined when Patryck gave him a little pat on the head, causing him to shoot a glance at Paul. The other alpha shrugged, and Tord groaned again.  
"Stop doing your weird alpha eyebrow shit."   
"We're not, don't worry." Paul chided, gently setting the hot water bottle down next to Tord.

The omega grumbled a little, curling around the warmth, and closing his eyes.  
"Hey, you can't go to sleep just yet." Patryck told him, giving his shoulder a gentle tap.

Paul had gone to get some isopropyl to treat Tord's cuts, and when that was done, he practically burrowed into the blankets.

"Goodnight Tord." Patryck said, giving him a gentle scratch behind the ear.  
"Goodnight." He mumbled, and they left him be as he drifted into sleep, finally safe.


End file.
